Eternity and the Sparrow

!!!ATTENTION!!! IF you've been following this story and the last chapter DID NOT end in Shipwreck Cove, then you haven't read the whole chapter! AFF ate half my chapter and I didn't realize for a few days! Don't move on until you've caught up... unless you really want to ^_^;

Sorry this update took a little while (when am I not saying that?) but I went to New York City on vacation and didn’t get much done. I’m not going to promise a deadline for the next chapter, because my last few weeks of summer school are coming up and I’ll have finals.

If you sent me a review saying that you’d be willing to Beta, please send me an email at duoismine @ gmail . com (but without spaces, it wouldn't let me post it as an email) so that I can get in contact with you. As of this moment, this chapter is also unbeta-ed. If you see any glaring mistakes, I would be very grateful if you pointed them out to me. Otherwise, enjoy.

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“We should just shoot ye for keepin’ us waitin’ Sparrow!” the first pirate who spotted Jack howled.

The man who spoke was Captain Ammand, and Jack rolled his eyes at the blatant accusation. “We’ve waited on ye more than once, ye Spanish dog,” Sparrow snapped back.

The Spaniard sank slowly into his seat with an offended glare, raising a good laugh out of some of the Brethren, a shared scowl from others; while the remainder continued to chat boisterously, ignorant of what was going on.

William leaned in to murmur dangerously close to his ear (an innocent gesture that the whelp probably didn’t realize diverted blood to his crotch), “Making plenty of friends, are you?”

Jack snorted, a completely non-committal sound that could be interpreted many ways… only because he didn’t actually hear what the boy had said. The room where they held the court’s discussions was very loud, and the highly attractive lad was standing far too close to him. All of these things were very distracting, but mostly the body heat of a sinfully adorable man making his skin tingle.

Taking the only option that would keep him from throwing William to the floorboards and fucking him senseless in front of the entire Brethren Court, Jack stepped towards Elizabeth and raised his voice above the quarrelling buccaneers, “They’re all yours, Pirate King.”

For the first time all evening, Elizabeth lost her unwavering certainty. She had commanded the pirates in battle, that had been easy enough (since a well phrased pep-talk could get a cat to go swimming against its wishes), but she had not been wholly successful in getting them to listen on this level. A little shamefully, she realized that it had taken Jack’s help to get their attention the last time she’d stood before them.

Elizabeth started with a standard tactic, clearing her throat very loudly. It was no good. Next, she tried yelling over their petty arguments, but the only one’s who heard were standing right behind her, and already listening. Frustrated, the young woman tossed up her hands with a sigh. “They’re hopeless.”

Elizabeth cast about the room for a more drastic option than yelling. Shooting a gun into the air crossed her mind, but judging from the level of aggression the pirates already had towards each other, it was possible that it would just start an all out brawl.

Her eyes fell on Captain Teague, who was no more part of the din than he ever was. Jack’s father was situated off in the corner, tuning a well-worn guitar in a way that was almost loving. He was the keeper of the Code, Elizabeth knew, but he never seemed to take any interest in the Courts beyond that. She could definitely tell which side of the family Jack’s looks had derived from.

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, and Elizabeth was almost embarrassed to be caught staring. The soulful-looking man set his instrument aside and got to his feet. Though he said nothing, the room slowly fell into silence as he approached the table. Captain Teague never uttered anything above the low tone one might used at a quiet meal, because he didn’t have to. Anything that fell from the man’s lips was of up most importance, so the Court was always ready to listen to the infamous Captain.

That, and he’d shoot anyone who’d disobey the code, or ignore him.

Jack shuffled away from the table as his father approached, more than a little wary of the man. He backed until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Will, thankful that his lover had spectacular skill with the sword. Not that he didn’t, but it was always good to have backup, especially where his father was concerned.

For the time being, Captain Teague ignored his son, and addressed the Court, “The Code demands that ye listen when our King has somethin’ to say. She wishes to speak, so hold your tongues.” He left the rest unspoken, Or I’ll cut them out.

Will took in Captain Teague from head to toe, his eyes passing over his tri-corn hat, and the plethora of trinkets braided into his dark hair. The man looked a hell of a lot like Jack, all the way down to the slight swagger Will detected in his walk.

Elizabeth had mentioned meeting Jack’s father at the Courts, but she’d neglected to point out that he was also a Pirate Lord. Judging from Sparrow’s reaction to his sire’s presence, Will suspected that he wouldn’t be introduced.

Captain Teague stepped aside and passed the floor to Elizabeth, who gave him a quiet ‘thank you’, before turning to the attentive court. “Pirate Lords,” she began, “you are all well aware that I became King through a vote of the Court.” This inspired some grumbling among the Captains, several of them glaring thoroughly at Jack. He’d been the only pirate in the history of the Courts to vote for anyone but himself.

Elizabeth pressed on, “But I wish to retire from the position, and announce the next King.”

Her words were followed by a less than pleasant uproar. Everyone had an opinion about her retirement, but they all screamed them at the same time and no single voice could be separated out of the clamor. It took several minutes for them to settle down, and Captain Chevalle managed to be heard, “You are not permitted to name the next King, it must be decided by vote. Check the Code.”

Elizabeth almost smirked. It wasn’t in the Code, which was precisely why she’d decided to handle the situation as she had. It was a bit of a wager, but she was figuring that no pirate in his right mind would ever give up the control of the Court. It was the same greed that kept the Brethren Court from ever having a king, because no pirate would vote for anyone but himself and it was assumed that the Pirate King would never give up power once he had it.

Captain Teague confirmed her suspicions, “It’s not in the Code.” Although, he didn’t seem entirely pleased with the idea either.

Elizabeth nodded and eyed the seated pirates, challenging them to test her authority. “Then I will name Jack Sparrow as my successor.”

A confused murmur flit around the room like a wayward butterfly. Mistress Ching was the first to toss in a loud, “What?”

The word took on a bizarre echo as others repeated it. It fell last from Jack’s mouth, who was just as surprised as anyone else at the table. Jack had been expecting a viper, but he wasn’t entirely sure of how making him King would play into the tart’s plan. It didn’t take him long to figure out.

Gentleman Jocard surged to his feet, claiming in his baritone voice, “Then if I kill him, I will become the next King! That isn’t in the Code either!”

Before Jack had a chance to react, the massive man had whipped out his pistol and was aiming his shot at the dead center of Sparrow’s chest. Not sure what else to do (since there was no one near him that he would consciously use as a human shield), Jack raised his hands and stammered; “I actually think that one IS in the Code, mate.” He looked towards his father for help, but got none. “And if it’s not, it really aught to be,” he finished with an absent wave of his hand.

The gun cracked off its shot, causing Jack to flinch slightly. He felt no pain, which was strange, because getting shot hurt like a bitch. He opened his eyes in time to see Will crumple at his feet. The boy had jumped in front of him without a second thought.

“No!” tore from Elizabeth’s throat in a wail.

It wasn’t sorrow that flooded Jack, it was rage; a fury so powerful that it coiled through his senses faster than he could fully process his companion’s still form. He pulled his own pistol and turned it on Jocard, his eyes cold and calculating. Eight other guns took aim at Jack, four of them were Captains wanting a piece of the pie, and the others were Jocard’s men, trying to protect the piece they already had.

The big man had balls enough to laugh at him, “What Jack? Did I kill your pet?”

Jack flicked back the hammer on his pistol. The minute he pulled the trigger, he’d be riddled with holes, but he honestly didn’t care. He could take out Jocard and possibly a few others with his sword before he died… if he hadn’t left his sword in the globe at the front of the room. They wouldn’t be expecting him to go for it, so he could probably get his blade (two if he could hack it), before he took too many bullets. To Hell with the Brethren Court.

His finger tightened on the trigger, but a quiet voice stopped him. “Jack…”

The pirate furrowed his brow, not wanting to take his eyes off the big black man with a gap in his teeth. The voice came again, but it sounded stronger, “Jack.”

Movement near his feet finally caught his eye and drew it away from Jocard. William was sitting up on his elbows, smiling at him reassuringly. “I’m alright,” he told him softly.

The idea of immortality slowly filtered through the thick blanket of ire that had settled over Jack’s mind. The whelp couldn’t be killed; he’d made sure of it when he’d nearly lost him the first time. Elizabeth was weeping with relief, but Jack had no sympathy for her. This whole damn thing was her fault.

Jack lowered his gun and held out his hand, which William took gratefully. Despite being immortal, the wound still hurt him something fierce. Jack hauled the boy to his feet, almost scolding him, “Ye remember that ‘brave to a fault’ thing?”

Will staggered slightly and leaned on Sparrow’s shoulder, holding his wound until he realized that it wasn’t bleeding. “Yeah, well,” was all he could manage in a pained gasp. The sharp agony faded to a dull throb within minutes, but it sparked back up again anytime he moved too quickly.

“Jack, let’s go. We’ve done what we had to here and things are only going to get worse,” Will suggested as the Pirate Lords broke into yet another fight.

They hurried out of the broken hull used as the Brethren’s gathering place, pulling their swords from the world as they passed. Only one man noticed their hasty departure, and he tailed after them casually.

Jack felt, rather than saw, their follower. Problem was, Will was staggering from the bullet every few feet, and Jack didn’t want to release his hold on him. With the hand that wasn’t wrapped tightly around Will’s waist, Jack retrieved his gun for the second time that day. He didn’t get the chance to use it.

“Put that away, boy.”

Jack hesitantly did as his father ordered. While he was sure the thought had crossed his old man’s mind a time or two, Captain Teague had never actually attempted to kill him. It was unlikely that things would change at this point in time.

William tried to stand up straight, despite the stabbing pain in his chest (the bullet was definitely going to need to come out). Even after he’d made the noticeable effort to steady himself, Jack didn’t release him, for which he was silently grateful.

Mrs. Turner stood quietly behind them, apparently humbled for the pain she’d caused her husband. She hadn’t even made a comment about Jack hauling Will through the street like some drunken whore, just trailed meekly through their wake.

Captain Teague surveyed his son and the young man pressed against him, venturing after a few moments of careful consideration, “There aren’t many who would sacrifice themselves so readily for another.”

He left them in a long enough silence that Will was getting ready to work up a response, but the leather-skinned pirate continued, “Ye haven’t always been a pirate then boy?”

Will shook his head.

Teague ‘humph’-ed thoughtfully and turned his dark eyes back to his son. “If you’re smart, boy, you’ll keep this one with ye,” he said, departing once he’d given out his strangely placed pearl of wisdom.

“Plan to,” Jack returned to the man’s retreating back. After Captain Teague was out of earshot, he disclosed, “Me father’s always been a bit of a strange one,” and continued to lug the whelp through the ‘streets’ of Shipwreck City.

Will laughed, following it up with a wince, and commented, “Well, now I know where you get it from.”

His words drew what remotely resembled a smile onto Jack’s strained features. Captain Sparrow didn’t stress over many things, but the past few hours had been something he wouldn’t shake off with a single bottle of rum and a few drunken laughs. He had a very powerful need to reclaim his lover, for William’s sake as well as his own. But, first things first, he had to find someone to drag the hunk of lead out of the boy’s chest.

Back on the Dutchman, they found a pirate to do just that. The man reminded Jack of a rat with his tapered features and his habit of narrowing his eyes and leaning in as he scrutinized people. Will said his name was Ogilvey and he’d tended Jones when he had too many slugs of lead in him. Somewhere in his life, the pirate had actually had some kind of medical training, but he’d been on the Dutchman a long time and didn’t remember much.

He had Will lie down on what was normally a dining table and took out a very long pair of steel pincers. For what seemed like an eternity, Ogilvey dug around in the wound, feeling for the piece of metal. Every twist of the crooked tool he was using urged the boy into a pained squirm that was difficult for Jack to watch. Unable to stand it, Elizabeth fled the room after Will let out his first, muffled yell, but Jack stayed.

A particularly nasty jab somewhere around the region of his lungs caused Will to scrape his boots across the table and curl his hands into fists.

“Shouldn’t ye have found it already,” Jack growled impatiently at the pirate. He could see why Davy waited until he had multiple slugs in him before he bothered to have them removed, the ache of leaving them in probably wasn’t near as bad as having this dolt try and fish them out.

“It’s lodged real good on some bone. I’ll have it out in a minute, Captain.”

Will didn’t answer, since he was too busy gritting his teeth to keep from yowling like a wounded hound.

The Rat (as Jack had determined he know him as) jiggled the tool around a bit more, before letting out a satisfied grunt, “‘Ere we are.”

He withdrew the metal tongs from the wound and dropped the lead slug into Jack’s outstretched hand. There was very little blood clinging to the bullet, but what was there stained the cloth wrapped across his palm. Jack rolled it around with his thumb a moment. For William, it was just a momentary pain, but for him, it was a death sentence. If the whelp hadn’t gotten in the way, Jack would have joined the ranks of pirates floating in the Locker.

Ogilvey stashed the dirty tool in a leather bundle, which disappeared into his jacket, and shuffled off

Will sat up and tossed his legs over the side of the table. He was fairly certain he had a splinter in his ass, but it was definitely more pleasant than large forceps poking around his organs. “Remind me never to get shot,” the young man muttered and rubbed the quickly healing hole.

When Jack didn’t respond, Will continued, “I suppose we should go after the Pearl now. You’ll be needing her to get to the Fountain and…” He didn’t get much further.

Jack stepped forward, between the whelp’s spread legs, and crushed their mouths together fiercely. It was a clashing of teeth and bloodying of lips that was fueled by desperation.

Wasting no time, Jack pushed his hand down the front of his young lover’s breeches and grabbed hold of his rapidly hardening dick. Will let a feral sound slip from the back of his throat and he bucked helplessly into the pirate’s grasp. He barely came to his senses long enough to gasp, “Jack, we’re…”

But their mouths crashed together again and the words slipped away like sand. It wasn’t a matter of where, or even when they were, it was a need that had to be satisfied. Despite what his eyes told him, Jack had to assure himself that no permanent harm had come to the boy.

He had to run his hands over the lad’s warm flesh and feel the eager body writhing against his own. “Now,” Jack breathed. “I need ye now.”

Will didn’t argue with him, because he needed the same. He stripped the buttons off Jack’s shirt in his attempts to rid him of it, the fasteners scattering across the floor and table. Jack would complain about it later.

They became thoroughly entangled, legs and arms winding, and hands twisting into anything they could reach. Clothes flew any which direction they chose, over shoulders and heads, to land gracelessly in a wide radius. The pair in the middle wouldn’t need to know where they’d gone until the morning.

Jack pulled firmly at Will’s member, twisting his hand and allowing his rings to brush along the head and soft underside. Pleasure swept up the whelp’s body in maddening riptides, making him lightheaded.

Will leaned forward to settle his face in the crook of Jack’s neck. As the pirate continued to work him, he busied himself kissing and nipping the soft skin just below Jack’s ear. He let out a growl when his lover hit a particularly sensitive spot and thrust into the questing hand.

Jack chuckled gruffly and released the unsatisfied youth, earning a grumpy whine, but gabbed two handfuls of William’s ass and pulled him off the table. The lad kicked off his breeches, which were still clinging to his calves and feet, and wrapped his legs tightly around his lover.

Jack found the boy’s mouth again, exploring it with his tongue. He shifted his hold on the squirming youth. Jack had heard stories about people who could perform amazing feats of strength when they were highly stressed or upset, but he was certain that is also applied to people who were aroused. He could barely feel the boy’s weight when he knew it rivaled his own, even if just barely.

He, rather roughly, pushed the younger man against the bulkhead of the… grub hall, that was where they were. The Rat had ushered them into the mess hall because there were tables he could lay the Captain out on, but they hadn’t left when the primal urges had swept through them. It wouldn’t be long before someone walked in to find them humping mindlessly like dogs in heat.

Jack ground their erections together as he processed the problem at hand. He didn’t dedicate much of his brain to the issue, but it did stew away in the back of his head. If they’d taken two seconds and crossed the ten feet to the Captain’s Quarters, they wouldn’t have to be worried about it.

But, they were men and didn’t tend to think ahead. They were creatures that lived off of whim and thrived, only regretting their lifestyle when things spiraled out of control.

Jack gathered his thoughts from where they’d dispersed, and suggested, “We… we really aught to go back to yer cabin. If one of yer crew sees…” It was possible that William was lose all respect from his men if someone found them, but they were also bound to follow him. Jack didn’t have enough self control to get them both dressed again and usher them to a safer place, but he hoped Will might.

The boy did nothing to help things, whimpering, “I don’t care… Ja –ah- Jack, I don’t care! I need… I need…” The sentence deteriorated into a moan and Will tossed his head back.

Jack took full advantage of the opening and bit down on the lad’s exposed throat, licking and sucking on the taut muscles. He let Will hold himself up with his legs while he dug in the pocket sewn into the inside of his jacket, glad he’d managed to toss it within reach. His fingers brushed against the small glass container he’d stashed there and curled around it.

“Came prepared this time,” he said, pulling out the bottle of oil he’d gotten in Tortuga.

He emptied it into his palm and braced the other hand back under the boy’s hips. The slick helped, more so than spit, and Jack had three fingers working in and out of his lover’s body in no time.

Will yowled as Jack found his sweet spot and assaulted it. Captain Sparrow flashed an ivory and gold smile when the uptight young man fell apart in his hands, losing all sense of modesty and humility. When he felt William was ready, he withdrew his hand from between the boy’s legs, allowing his fingers to graze, teasingly on the insides of his thighs.

Will didn’t beg, didn’t order, didn’t do anything but pant and wait patiently for Jack’s next move. The pirate’s ideas were very much in line with his own, and he quickly slicked his cock in preparation, before sliding into Will’s tight body hard and fast.

Jack didn’t want to rush, because he didn’t want to hurt his companion, but he couldn’t hold back either. The need to claim what was his rose over him, like some primal side of him had awoken and wouldn’t be sated until it had its mate.

Controlled by his urges, Jack thrust into William a little harder than necessary. The boy winced and gripped his shoulders, but the complete opposite from what Jack had been expecting fell from his mouth, “More!”

The word spurred him on and he began slamming into the eager body clinging to him. Will was balanced on the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain, feeling both arc up his sweat-slicked body. The bliss and building climax were euphoric, but the pain grounded him to earth and sea, making the whole experience more tangible.

Satisfaction swam quickly within Will’s reach, but as he was getting close enough to touch it, Jack slowed the pace to a crawl. The whelp opened his eyes at the sudden change. His curious peek met with Jack’s smoldering stare, neither wavered. Will allowed himself to be consumed by those obsidian eyes, his blood boiling just from the heat of it.

A little impatiently, Will pushed back against his lover’s slow, measured thrusts, but strong hands on his hips halted the movement. Will leaned back against the wall, feeling a bit strung out by his unsatisfied desires. He knew better than to touch himself (even if the need was great), because Jack always liked to be the one to give release to him. It would be upsetting to end the show prematurely, not that Captain Sparrow wouldn’t get it up again, and again, and again…

From the very first night Will had fallen into this disgraceful act he loved so much, he’d learned that Jack was not a one-time deal. Like with all things he did, Jack had to take sex far beyond what was perceived as normal, or possibly even healthy. He far outdid any expectation of him.

Will was grateful of it on many occasions.

In measure, leisurely strokes, Jack started the achingly slow climb back to their previous pace. While his thrusts were sluggish, they were rough and powerful. Each push in shoved Will up the bulkhead, the uneven wood catching his hair and rubbing his back raw, but it was perfect.

About halfway back to the untamed rate they’d started at, the heavy door to the mess hall swung inward. The untended hinges squealed like dying pigs, or giddy whores, depending on whose ears the sound fell on. Jack’s gaze flicked to the door, but he didn’t stop. It was too late to stop. William, however, was oblivious and yelled, “More!”

Of all the people that could come in, of all the possible problems that could arise from an unintended interruption, it was Bootstrap Bill that appeared in the opening. He was in the midst of a sentence, “I heard you’d been shot boy, are…” He faltered to a halt, both verbally and physically, and his eyebrows raced for his hairline.

His father’s voice dragged him out of his building ecstasy and William noticed the older pirate leaning in the doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. A blush spread from the roots of Will’s hair, to the tips of his toes, or at least that’s what it felt like.

Bootstrap cleared his throat, “Well, ye seem to be doin’ just fine, so I’ll leave ye to it.” With that, he shut the hatch, but propped himself against it on the outside. It would be best if no one else walked in on a Pirate Lord and his son screwing for all they were worth, especially not the saucy young tart that seemed to have a hell of a temper. Bootstrap pulled out his knife and a wet stone and got busy looking casual.

Back inside, Will was having a difficult time getting over the fact that his FATHER had just strolled in and witnessed him moaning to be fucked, like some girl. He was positively mortified.

Will buried his face against Jack’s shoulder, groaning with embarrassment rather than arousal. Despite the terribly weakened mental state Sparrow was in, he could still recognize the difference. He struggled to reign himself back in, but it took a few moments, and several wild thrusts, to do so.

Still buried hilt-deep in his lover, Jack managed to get an iron grip on his urge to pound on and find release. He wound his hand into the curly head of hair resting against his cheek. “Whelp…”

He got no answer.

“Whelp, if he cared, he would ‘ave done somethin’ about it.”

The lad’s voice was muffled by Jack’s skin and hair when he responded, “I was begging for it like some harlot… no better than a whore, and he saw.”

Jack couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped out. “Ye remember what I told ye about pirates killing time on a voyage? Some take care of themselves, some screw whatever animals happen to be in the hold, and others screw each other.”

“But we’re not killing time… we’ve barely even left port.”

“Well…”

Will sat up and met his eyes, “No. It’s not the same thing. I think about this all the time, and not with anyone but you. I want you take me when we’re in the middle of battle and when we’re searching for treasure on land, and I want you to kiss me, and… It’s not the same.”

“William…” Jack breathed. The lad had never admitted such things before, but, neither had he. Jack began to withdraw from Will’s body, but the boy whined slightly, so he slid back in. He resumed his steady thrusting. “It’s not the same,” he agreed.

Will captured his mouth greedily, biting on Jack’s lips. Their tongues dueled briefly before Jack pulled away.

“You’re not the only one who feels that way.”

Will quirked an eyebrow and gasped as Jack grazed past his sweet spot. “What?”

“I haven’t been with anyone except ye for months, savvy whelp?” He slammed into Will’s tight body before the boy had a chance to respond, continuing, “For this… to want this all the time… there has to be more to it.” Jack was going to blame his newfound honesty on too much blood being in his dick, rather than his brain, but he wasn’t so sure that was it. “I’ve lost plenty of pirates, and seen plenty of men die, but it never hurt until it was ye who was bleedin’.”

Damn his twisted, black heart for going out on him now. He loved the boy and there was no arguing it. When the compass had turned to point at the lad, it hadn’t been because he wanted to fuck him senseless once and be done with it. It had been because he wanted to keep the lad by his side endlessly. Jack wanted to fight back to back with him, wake up with him curled close, and screw him at least once a day, but it hadn’t been a desire that developed until the compass let him know what that dull ache in his chest was. He wanted a companion, a mate, a lover, a paramour; something known by many names, but always acknowledged with a smile and greeted with a kiss.
Will filled that empty place that rum, lasses, and the Pearl had failed to patch.

“Damn it,” Jack ground out as he neared orgasm. Conversation went on hold while they finished what they’d started. Jack wrapped his hand around Will’s arousal, stroking it in-time with his thrusts. The younger man gasped and gripped his lover’s shoulders. It didn’t take long to drag Will over the edge, screaming his release.

A few more driving thrusts and Jack was following after him, but more quietly. They clutched each other until the waves of rapture had passed, and then fell in a sweaty, panting heap at the base of the bulkhead.

Will tried to fight off a content drowsiness that settled over him. There were too many questions that he needed answers before he could doze. When he finally managed to break through the fog of exhaustion, he asked, “What did you mean? Just a minute ago, what did you mean?”

Jack eyed him, but hesitated. He bought some time by sliding his soft member out of Will and hiking his pants back into place. Will spotted his breeches several feet away, but didn’t have the energy to fetch them. It was kind of nice to sit and dry off before pulling them on anyway. Staying seated, Jack slid around and leaned against the bulkhead at William’s right, letting out a soft sigh before he said anything.

“I…” he faltered at the next word and looked the lad in the eye. William was waiting patiently for his answer, his brows arched in obvious anticipation. Jack reached up to run his thumb along the whelp’s smooth jaw and chin, over the weak stubble that the boy liked to call a beard.

If the words had been a lie, they would probably have been easier for him to say. He was a pirate, after all, and he could tell untruths all day and night if it accomplished his purpose, but the fact that they were true almost frightened him. He was afraid that saying them might drive Will away, or that they would one day fight beyond the point of no return and it would hurt all the more for it.

“I?” Will prompted.

Jack let his questing fingers curl into the soft hairs at the base of the boy’s head, coming to rest on the back of his neck. He gathered his courage and admitted, “I love ye.” William’s breathing hitched, so Jack barreled on, “It’s like ye said, ye want this far more than what could be known as passin’ time. I think of ye more often now than anythin’ else and it’s not just because of the sex. If I just wanted sex, I’d still be seeking companionship in Tortuga. I woo women now out of habit, not want. I haven’t buggered a girl in months-”

A slight smile spread over Will’s features and he cut into Jack’s helpless rant, echoing the pirate’s words, “You’re not the only one who feels that way.”

“But what about the tart? Ye had her again not long ago.”

“You try telling the daughter of a governor no.”

Jack quirked one eyebrow and leaned back, “Good point.” They sat in comfortable silence for a minute before Jack ventured, “But I thought ye loved her.”

“I do Jack, just not in the way I always thought I did. We grew up together, it’s hard for me not to love her, but it’s different than what I feel for you.”

Captain Sparrow smirked and felt a swell of greatly needed satisfaction. Inspired, he hauled the whelp into his lap and gave William an open-mouthed kiss. His young lover reciprocated immediately and eagerly.

“What do ye say to another round?”

“Do you honestly think I’d say no?”

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A great many hours later, Jack was pacing along the decks of the Dutchman. He had a rather nasty bone to pick with the only tart that could be found on the immortal ship, and he would not return to the warmth of his lover’s bed until he’d spoken his peace. Elizabeth had taken things too far, what with getting the whelp shot and all.

Jack found her in one of the few single cabins that the Dutchman had to offer. She was sitting on a cot, her knees tucked to her chest and looking a bit sicklier then Jack had ever seen her. She looked up as he entered, anger flushing her face immediately.

“What did you do with my treasure chest, Jack Sparrow?”

Jack rolled his obsidian eyes towards the ceiling at her casual address. “Captain,” was all he said in defense.

“Where is it?” she snapped.

He wondered vaguely if tossing her own words back in her face would be too heartless, but then remembered that he was a pirate, “Somewhere safe.”

The words made her bristle. “Why you rotten son of a-”

Jack cut in before she could finish, “It didn’t even cross your mind that he’d get involved, did it? That he’d get in the way.”

Elizabeth turned away, unwilling to answer him.

“Well, he did and it was your fault. Ye got him shot. Whatever happens between ye and I isn’t supposed to affect him,” Jack accused.

The girl put a dainty hand over her mouth, as if to stifle tears, though she was looking awfully green. Elizabeth Turner had not gotten seasick a day in her life, but she was beginning to feel it now. Nausea swept up from nowhere and she muttered, “I’m going to be sick.”

Before Jack could get out of the way, she was on her feet and headed for the door. The Pirate King almost felt a pang of sympathy for her, until she retched all over him. After she shared her stomach contents, Elizabeth ran past him to heave over the side of the ship.

Jack continued to stand where he was. He examined his soiled clothing with a curled lip, and grumbled, “If she didn’t want to talk about it, she could’av just said somethin’.”

When he joined her on the main deck, the sickness had passed and she was leaning on the railing. “I’ve never seen ye get seasick before. I thought ye had pretty good sea-legs, even if they were a bit scrawny,” Jack jested lightly. Somehow, he didn’t feel like it was the time to be cruel to the lass, even if he did hate her.

“I don’t think I’m seasick,” Elizabeth admitted miserably. “This is the forth day this has happened.”

Jack perched on the railing beside her. Either the girl was badly ill with something, or… Jack hoped his other theory wasn’t right. “Anything else been botherin’ ye?”

“Besides you?” When the pirate gave her a look for the comment, she let their running spat go for a minute, “No. About once a day, I get sick and then I’m alright.”

It hadn’t been long since the first time Elizabeth and Will had screwed one another, far too soon for Jack’s theory to be solid, but the lass’s symptoms made it a definite possibility. Jack had spent plenty of time in the brothels of Tortuga, and more than a share of women would be pregnant at any given time. Nausea was something that they all bitched about.

If it was so, then the whelp would be expecting a whelp of his own. They would want to get Elizabeth off the sea as soon as they could, for battle, storms, and plundering was not good for any unborn child.

-------

TBC…

So, trouble brewing on the horizon for Jack. Trouble that, of course, our saucy tart Elizabeth has started.

I know that bit towards the end was a little on the fluffy side, but pirates are allowed to have fluffy moments too!

Hehe, I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.